Contagious
by RavenShira
Summary: Where Thorin get's ill, and Bilbo is so done with his stubborn behaviour. He's so done with it, that if sitting on Thorin is the only way to get them to talk, he will. See if he doesn't! Or: In which Thorin falls ill and is convinced he is going mad again.


_**Chapter 1: Of ill kings and worried hobbits**_

* * *

 _The king had shut himself into his bedroom._

That's the first thing Bilbo had been told when he had asked a guard why he hadn't seen Thorin around all day. Not even to meals, which the whole company had made a point of partaking together.

 _The king refused to leave his bedchamber and didn't want to be disturbed._

That was the answer he got when the dwarrow guard had stepped guiltily in his way when all he wanted was to head to Thorin's chamber and drag him out of whatever childish tantrum he was currently stuck in.

The glare Bilbo directed at the poor messenger must have been a sight to see as the poor dwarf hunched his shoulders and seemed to shrink into himself.

Another thing to talk to Thorin about, when he reached the bedchamber. There was no way Bilbo would be discouraged by a guard telling him otherwise. Not when he had Dwalin at his side glaring over his shoulder (which, now that Bilbo thought about it, was probably the true source of fright that made the guard a shivering mess in front of Bilbo).

"That's it." Bilbo huffed, crossing his arms "I'm dragging him out by his ear if I have to."

"Y-you can't! His highness-"

"Dwalin." it was all that Bilbo needed to say for Dwalin to step forward and crack his metal-covered knuckles. The guard turned a pasty shade of white, but didn't move. Bilbo was not entirely sure if he should admire the loyalty of the dwarf or pity the stupidity of standing against Dwalin on a mission.

Either way, the dwarf became distracted for a second which Bilbo promptly used to slip past. Then he started to walk, ignoring the stammered protests behind him as Dwalin held the guard in a headlock while Bilbo continued on his way to Thorin's chambers.

* * *

。・゜゜・ ✿ ・゜゜・。

* * *

Without bothering to knock Bilbo tried to open the door. It was locked, something that almost never happened. Bilbo had always been welcome to come and go wherever and whenever he wanted. He had earned himself that right when he had helped Thorin regain his kingdom and stood against him when he was so deep in the clutches of gold lust, that Thorin still had nightmares of slipping back into the illness. And when he had become Thorin's lover after all of that? Well, there had been no reason to keep him out of his bedchamber. They still had separate bed-chambers, more due to political reasons than anything else. It wouldn't be well received if Bilbo just became King Consort from one day after another, especially after the whole Arkenstone debacle. No, they had mutually decided to make the change slow going, to let the populace get used to their hobbit and let them see his true character and not the traitor to the crown.

And now Bilbo was standing in front of a closed door. Reduced to knocking.

"Thorin?"

He waited for a few seconds but nothing happened. He tried again. Louder this time, in case his dwarf had suddenly become deaf.

"Thorin? Are you there?" another few moments of silence followed and Bilbo huffed in irritation. Thanks to the guard he _knew_ Thorin was inside the room. As if the locked door was not indication enough.

"If you don't open the door in the next ten seconds, I am not going to be held responsible for my actions." he told the door "Whether I bring Nori to open that door or Glóin and Dwalin to break it down doesn't matter to me, but open it I will if you refuse to do so without a very sound reason."

"Go'way..." the slurred, weak words made Bilbo highly concerned as it was something he had never heard from Thorin of all people.

"... are you drunk?" it was a valid question. They had a festival the night before but Bilbo didn't think that Thorin had had enough to drink for him to still be affected a day later.

"Thorin. Come on, open up. You know I won't leave unless I know you are all right." something was wrong and concern over Thorin's well-being overwhelmed him now, making him shift restlessly from foot to foot.

"'m fine. Go away."

Very well. Nori it was. Huffing and glaring at the offending door Bilbo turned around and passed Dwalin and the guard who was turning rather purple in his face. By the cringe of Dwalin as he passed by, his face must have spelled out his mood quite thoroughly.

* * *

。・゜゜・ ✿ ・゜゜・。

* * *

It didn't take long for him to hunt down Nori. As always Nori seemed to know when he was needed and randomly appeared in front of you as if he had been called. It was a little creepy but useful in instances like this.

"Nori." He said and felt his lips twitch when Nori made a salute with some lock-picks twirling between his fingers before sauntering in the direction of the royal chambers. They passed Dwalin and the rather miserable, now limp but still conscious figure of the dwarf that was still in a headlock and had obviously given up fighting against the inevitable.

Standing in front of the bedroom door he made a wild gesture at the lock.

"Open it!" he practically commanded with mild irritation. From somewhere inside the room came a growl of "Don't you dare-" accompanied by hasty shuffling sounds. Bilbo crossed his arms decidedly unimpressed.

Just a moment later the sound of the door being unlocked was heard and just a moment later it was rudely ripped open, revealing a sweaty, feverish looking dwarf-king leaning stiffly in the doorway.

"Oh... _Thorin_." when all Thorin did was glare miserably at him he almost rolled his eyes but instead turned back to Nori.

"Thanks for your help. I'll take it from here. Go to Bombur and get me some chicken-soup and then go to Óin and send him over."

With that he quickly ducked under Thorin's arm blocking the way and danced out of the way of sluggishly grabbing hands.

"Bed, Thorin." he scolded softly, catching a hand in his and carefully tugging at it until the dwarf reluctantly followed him to his bed.

"You shouldn't be here..." Thorin rumbled, blinking tiredly up to him once he settled back into the bed "don't want to hurt you..."

"Silly dwarf." Bilbo said fondly as he ushered Thorin to lie down again "Just because you are unwell doesn't mean you can't count on me to help you. And you would never hurt me."

"But-" Thorin didn't look entirely convinced, but snapped his mouth shut with a loud click that must have hurt.

"Hush. Let me take care of you. You need to eat, and rest. Why didn't you call for Óin?" looking at Thorin's petulant expression he sighed. Bebother and confusticate dwarrow stubborness.

"wasn't sure..." Thorin mumbled then looked away, clearly caught between being uncomfortable and embarrassed.

"Wasn't sure what?" but all Thorin did was shake his head slightly and then hide his face with a groan. Before Bilbo could interrogate his ill lover, a rap on the door distracted him.

"Come in!" he called out over his shoulder, while fussing over Thorin when the king tried to sit up again. It was Óin who was loaded with ointments and bandages, making Bilbo cringe in embarrassment. Maybe he should have told Nori just what ailed their king before sending him off. That way Óin wouldn't have to carry the whole medical wing to the kings quarters.

That didn't mean he would forget about interrogating whatever Thorin was currently letting fester inside of him out of his lover.

* * *

。・゜゜・ ✿ ・゜゜・。

* * *

Caring for Thorin was a chore. Bilbo had known a lot of children and had seen many of them sick, since his family was big and always seemed to expand even more.

Thorin was worse than all of them together. He was especially grumpy and so very closed off. It bothered Bilbo, who refused to leave Thorin's side more than necessary. At least the king hadn't locked the door again, probably knowing that this time Bilbo would simply get Dwalin to rip the door apart instead of bothering to find Nori.

It was also very strange to sit next to the bed his exhausted lover slept in. Every now and then Bilbo would exchange the folded wet handkerchief for a fresh one, trying to bring down the temperature that kept it's grip on Thorin.

Something was bothering his dwarf. And it bothered Bilbo that he had not yet found out what it was that had Thorin withdrawing from him and everyone else. He wouldn't stand for it, but his priority was to make Thorin feel better first.

Bilbo could feel his own fingers tapping impatiently on the underside of his arm, as he watched over Thorin. He would love to interrogate Thorin, however the dwarf needed his rest to get well again.

Once he was, all bets were off though.

* * *

。・゜゜・ **T** ・゜゜・。

* * *

Thorin slowly struggled to wakefulness. He felt heavy, his throat was sore and there was a fuzzy feeling in his head that had him utterly terrified. He was sure he was either going mad or he was dieing.

With a low groan he rolled to his side and blinked sleepily, freezing when he saw Bilbo sleeping in the chair next to the bed. Frowning he immediately thought of how sleeping like that would put a painful crick in Bilbo's neck upon waking.

His hand had almost immediately reached out to shake Bilbo awake and question him what he was thinking, sleeping in a chair when there was a perfectly fine bed available, when he remembered the circumstances.

He was ill. Maybe it was the Gold Madness returning and he should as much distance between himself and Bilbo as possible, if only the frustratingly oblivious hobbit wasn't refusing to leave his side!

And he had tried so, so hard. Withdrawing from Bilbo felt like cutting of your own arms to spite yourself. Or gorging out his own heart with a dull spoon.

It was painful and seeing how Bilbo's eyes flashed with hurt and confusion? That made it even worse. But he just couldn't risk himself going completely out of control _again_ and hurt his hobbit, or do something even worse.

No, that would be even worse than death. Thorin shivered at the thought of relapsing into madness and turned to the other side, curling up and trying to ignore the hobbit while guilt ate at his consciousness.

* * *

。・゜゜・ ✿ ・゜゜・。

* * *

It took another two days of dedicated bedside manner for the fever to break. In that time, nearly nothing Bilbo did seemed to get through Thorin, who obviously tried his hardest to put as much distance between them as possible.

Bilbo did not know what was wrong, but now that Thorin was better...

The hell he was going to take being pushed away without an explanation again. So when he brought the tea that would help Thorin get better and Thorin refused to even look at him or take the cup out of his hand just in case their hands would brush against each other he snapped.

He put the cup down hard on the nightstand, ignoring the crack that formed at the cups edge and the tea sloshing dangerously inside, then he pushed a stunned Thorin back into the pillows and crawled onto the bed. On top of Thorin, where he sat down and stared at his stubborn lover.

"This." he indicated between themselves "Will. Not. Go. On."

"Bilbo-"

"No. I've had it with your temper ans whatever strange notion has buried itself in your head. Start talking." Bilbo said as he poked Thorin in the chest "and you better have a damn good reason for your behavior. I'm not above taking you over the knee and not in a kinky manner."

"I-..." Thorin swallowed and seemed to try looking everywhere but at Bilbo. Gently he cradled Thorin's cheeks and urged the dwarf to look at him, drawing closer while he did so, if only so Thorin wouldn't be able to avoid him again. There was a long, such a long silence but Bilbo knew Thorin now. He knew whatever it was seemed to be hard for the king to talk about, so he waited patiently for him to find the words. Even if the sheer agony in Thorin's eyes drove him crazy while he waited. He could not help without knowing what ailed Thorin after all.

"I'm going mad. Again." those words, broken as they were due to the raw emotion in them, send a cold shiver down the hobbits back, but outwardly he only blinked, thought it over and blinked again.

"What makes you think so?" he finally questioned and stroked Thorin's cheek, his thumbs running soothingly along the beard. Thorin who seemed partly relieved that Bilbo didn't just push his concern aside but also utterly terrified of being right and... and maybe he was afraid of Bilbo leaving.

Such a strange dwarf, trying to push Bilbo away for fear of hurting him, yet unable to confess his worries out of fear that Bilbo would truly leave if they were proven right.

And yet courageous enough to do it anyways.

"I... I don't feel right. My head is... was... if it's the gold madness returning you should go. You should be running back to the Shire, you sh-" the words were cut off by a simple peg against rambling lips.

"What I should, or shouldn't do is my decision, Thorin." Bilbo gently said "and I believe I would do a lot, should the madness return, but running would _never_ be an option." ever so careful he laid his forehead against the kings, even if it was an awkward position for him. Below him, Thorin searched his eyes, then he tried to turn away. Hesitatingly, Bilbo drew back and gave Thorin his space. As much as he could while sitting on him.

"You shouldn't. I don't want to hurt you." Thorin grumbled and raised a hand to tiredly rub his eyes "I feel better today. You- you should probably go and rest."

Oh. That stubborn clot-pole. How long had Thorin agonized over that? Since the beginning? Probably.

"Thorin..." Bilbo tried to catch the eyes avoiding him.

"Thorin." he tried again, sounding more firm this time "Thorin, look at me...!"

Finally his dwarf reluctantly met his eyes and glared, but once again Bilbo could clearly see the the hidden agony and self doubt in Thorin's beautiful blue orbs. Gentle didn't work. Which is why, when Thorin turned back, Bilbo threw caution in the wind and-

-pressed a soft kiss to Thorin's forehead. Then his temple, his cheeks, his eyes, his nose. He peppered Thorin with so many small, loving kisses until the dwarf relaxed and stared in utter confusion up at Bilbo, while Bilbo just smiled adoringly back.

"Thorin... you just have the flu." Thorin owlishly blinked back at him.

"Dwarrows don't get ill." he said with a conviction of something he had to have been saying for quite some time, if not all his life.

"I'm sure they don't." Bilbo said and amused himself by playing with Thorin's braid "Which is why Óin's job is such a waste."

"Broken bones and war wounds are something different." Thorin replied, and that stubborn twist of his mouth almost made Bilbo beam. It was so much better to see Thorin return to his old habits than seeing him so subdued and withdrawn.

"Which is why he immediately recognized, just like I did, that you had the flu." and neither Bilbo nor Óin had though about telling Thorin just what he was suffering from, because they had thought it obvious.

"And since you are clearly suffering from the flue right now-" he would get the truth through Thorins stubborn head. And he had no problem sitting on the king for however long it would take.

"I do not have the-" Thorin tried to inject in indignation. Bilbo wouldn't let him and simply raised his voice a little to tone out the dwarf

"-which can be proven since you're-"

"-flu. That's a-"

"-already on the way to recovery." Bilbo finished smugly.

"-lie- wait. What?"

"You are better already. A few more days and you will be right as rain." Thorin stared at Bilbo doubtfully, so much that it made Bilbo huff out an annoyed breath.

"Don't you trust my word? Would you like me to call in Óin for his opinion?"

Thorin stared at him for another moment, the doubt slowly vanishing as he kept up eye contact with Bilbo.

"I-" the dwarfs voice broke and he had to swallow hard to try again "I'm not... going mad?"

Finally.

"No, Thorin. I _promise_ you are not."

Finally his dwarf seemed to believe it himself, a wet sheen in his eyes that he stubbornly held back. A hesitating hand rose up to Bilbo and settled in his neck, drawing him down.

"I'm sorry." Thorin mournfully whispered against the side of his neck, breath tickling Bilbo's sensitive ear.

"It's okay..." Bilbo sighed and ran a soothing hand through Thorin's hair, ignoring the slight wetness at his shoulder "Just... next time, just tell me. I can help."

Another hand curled around his waist and urged him to settle on top of Thorin. Bilbo loved that plan, and after the last couple of days a cuddle session would do the both of them a world of good. And if the hand stayed at his waist and was holding a little tighter than comfortable, well... Bilbo was okay with that too.

* * *

 **A/N:**

This was a challenge set for me. A scene where Thorin falls ill and Bilbo gets to care for him. I might do a follow up chapter but I'm not entirely sure yet :)


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